


Checkmate

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everyone makes mistakes.”</p>
<p>“Not you. Not like this. You wanted to be caught, didn’t you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

_Head like a **hole**_   
_Black as your **soul**_   
_I’d **rather** die _   
_Than give **you** control_

They were sparring, they said. Just friendly combat, they said.

“Just blowing off steam.”

“Merely working old joints.”

That didn’t explain why every strike was halfway a caress. That couldn’t explain the growls that faded to groans, spat epithets with smirks attached. The way Drift curved so gracefully into an arch before throwing Cyclonus off of him to break a pin; the way Cyclonus would twist Drift’s arms to pull him close and spread clawed servos over the top edge of abdominal plating.

Was it a fight, or a courtship dance?

Or something a little more vicious?

Drift grinned, taking a half step and whipping the sword’s blade up to press gently against the side of Cyclonus’s neck cabling. The taller warrior froze a moment, optics dim in… amusement.

Panting, Drift barked a laugh, “Checkmate.”

“Oh?”

With an agility belying his age and frame, Cyclonus moved. He snatched Drift’s wrist before the swordsmech could slip away, and squeezed until the clatter of steel on the floor rang in their audials.

He yanked drift close, twisting that arm behind the samurai’s back as he snarled in annoyance. His frame thudded against Cyclonus’s, his captured limb held between them.

He squirmed, back arching as his other arm was captured.

He growled, the sound vibrating his frame like an earthquake and Cyclonus laughed low in his chest.

“You could have escaped that easily, Drift.”, purred the violet mech, squeezing Drift’s wrists again.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not you. Not like this. You wanted to be caught, didn’t you.”

Drift was quiet, no answer but another low growl. Cyclonus clicked his glossa like a scolding mother, releasing one of Drift’s wrists to move those clawed servos over Drift’s red waist stripes.

A shiver through white armor.

Cyclonus’s red optics glimmered brighter, and his hand moved lower.

Drift arched against him with a soft murmur, helm tilting to the side. He grinned, feeling Cyclonus freeze. Drift knew exactly what he was doing, tempting the violet mech.

Drift’s other wrist was released at the same time sharp denta dug into slick cables and Drift gasped. Shaky servos reached and wrapped around part of Cyclonus’s helm to hold him against the bite as Drift panted, “C’mon, harder!”

Cyclonus groaned, his fangs nearly piercing the energon line between them before releasing to drag a slow lick over the dents. Drift sagged against him with a soft whine of enjoyment. Fans whirred to life when Drift felt pressure on his chestplate, holding him against the larger mech as claws tapped at his panel.

Click.

“Eager, aren’t you?”

“B-Been a while since I really threw dow-OH!”

Drift’s optics shuttered as a servo slipped into him with no warning, curling carefully and making his thighs press together. The swordsmech latched onto Cyclonus’s arm to stay standing as he rose to the tips of his pedes from the digits teasing his valve. He squirmed, gasping hoarsely as a second, then a third slid into him and he moaned wantonly as Cyclonus nuzzled against his neck.

“Is this what you wanted then?”, laughed the horned mech wickedly, curling the three servos in Drift’s valve to make him whine, “Well, is it?”

“Y-Yes!”

Those digits slid out, Cyclonus’s hand now cupping the valve just o enjoy the heat pouring from Drift, “ _Beg for it._ ”

A whine.

“ **Beg.** ”

A river of pleas whispered from the squirming white mech as Cyclonus mouthed over bitten cables before sinking his teeth back into them again briefly before hissing, “LOUDER, Drift.”

“PLEASE!”

Drift choked on his own words when those three servos pushed back into him, and his hips rolled as he rode the motions and sought release. He moaned, he gasped, he let free a litany of those tiny wanting noises that echoed in Cyclonus’s audials.

He pushed back against Cyclonus, not noticing the smooth steps back the mech took until the pair bumped a wall, and slid down.

Drift’s legs were spread open over Cyclonus’s lap as he arched and writhed like a buymech putting on a show; the wet sound of servos playing him like an instrument sounding impossibly loud.

“Nnghk, Cycl-lonus I-”

Those servos pushed deep, curling as they were pumped viciously in and out of the slick valve.

“ _Make it good._ ”

Drift snapped, biting hard on his thumb to mute the shriek that wanted to ring out. Fans whirred on high as warnings flashed about core temperatures and he squirmed against the arm around his waist.

Cyclonus purred as his servos were squeezed by hungry calipers, nuzzling the base of a finial before Drift went limp in his arms. Unceremoniously, he tilted Drift off of his lap after pulling his servos stickily free. Drift lay on the floor of the sparring room, purring contentedly before grinning up at Cyclonus as the violet mech made a noise in inquiry.

“How about another round, hm? My hab is empty.”

“ _… Beg for it._ ”

Fans that had been slowing suddenly kicked up a notch again, and Drift licked his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of energy drinks and seeing the same post on Tumblr six times in a row.


End file.
